


Your Hand in Mine

by foxysquid



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clones, Druids, Family, Family Drama, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Found Family, Gen, Paladins, Team Bonding, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-09 00:51:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17991722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxysquid/pseuds/foxysquid
Summary: Keith and Regris make a startling discovery on one of their missions. The Galra Empire—or someone associated with it—has created something that should not exist...It's something small and cute, but concerning enough that Keith knows exactly what to do with it: bring it to Shiro. Because what Shiro needs is another strange problem to deal with.Originally published in the Zarkon ZineLong Live the Emperor, which you can findhere. I decided to expand this story beyond what was included in the zine, becauseclearly, I didn't have enough multi-chapter fics to work on. But also, I had ideas!





	1. Prologue: Derelict Base

"Something's there," said Keith.

Regris ran another quick scan, then checked and double-checked the console. "You think? No readings."

Keith shook his head. "No, which is why I think there's something there."

Regris reflected on this, before nodding. "I see what you mean." 

It wasn't _nothing_ that had brought them there. They had detected faint signals indicating Galra activity in this quadrant. There was no known reason for the Empire to send ships through this region. There were no charted Galra installations or settlements within this star system. The orange-red star at its center reigned over seven seemingly uninhabited planets.

Uninhabited, but not without signs of civilization. A more intense sweep of the system revealed what appeared to be a derelict space station. It was an old structure, orbiting the fifth planet's largest moon. A preliminary scan indicated that its external design wasn't consistent with Galra technology, but couldn't identify what civilization had constructed it. To all appearances, it had been abandoned long ago, its hull battered, its lights gone dark.

"Should we go in closer, then?" Regris was preparing to do just that, making the necessary calculations at the helm of their small cruiser. 

Keith was about to agree, when he felt coldness gather between his shoulder blades, rising up into his neck. "Wait. Can you do another scan?"

"For what?"

"I don't know." Keith's instinctive caution was too vague for him to be more precise. "For anything dangerous."

"Anything it is," said Regris, fingers moving nimbly over the controls. "Let's see, computer, do we have anything for Keith—? Ah."

"What is it?" Keith demanded when Regris broke off.

"Mines. Ghost mines, which is why they didn't show up on the basic scan. If we'd gone straight ahead— That wouldn't have ended well."

Keith scowled. The Empire wouldn't waste ghost mines on nothing. "Let's go in."

"Charting a course around the mines."

The course was not an easy one, maintaining stealth while avoiding the deadly mines. Keith half expected enemy ships to appear at any moment, but none arrived. The base might have been more than it seemed, but it was apparently abandoned. What was being hidden here, and who was it hidden from? No secure Galra installation would be left unmanned like this. It was as if the secret of it was so deep, it was hidden from even the Empire.

The base's weathered hull masked an advanced security system. "What is this place?" Keith hissed, as they paused for Regris to disable another alarm.

"I don't know, but I'm going to remember this coding. If we manage to get out again." Regris said that more cheerfully than he should have.

The chill between Keith's shoulder blades returned as they progressed, intensifying when they arrived at a small, unmarked door. It was so unremarkable, he was suspicious. This place hid the extraordinary in ordinariness. 

"Whoa," said Regris, the cheer gone from his voice as he concentrated on opening the door. "This is—"

The door slid sharply open and an alarm started to sound: a grating, pulsing tone. They had to leave, immediately, but Keith stared through the open door, gaze drawn by a warm glow within that was oddly almost welcoming. What he saw there was far more unexpected than the derelict base's advanced interior. The danger was great. His heart was pounding. But—

"I'm going in," said Keith.


	2. Perfect Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When confronted with an unexpected new arrival, Shiro has to decide whether he's ready to add another member to the team—but before he has a chance to decide, a mysterious ship confronts the Castle of Lions.

"I need to talk to you."

When Keith's face appeared on the screen, Shiro would have said that he had never seen Keith look more serious, except that he had so often seen his friend with a grim expression on his face, that would be difficult to estimate. "Of course. You can talk to me anytime."

"Now. Alone. In person."

"In person it is. Are you—"

"I'm almost there."

It felt strange, having Keith spend so much time away from him and the other paladins, but Shiro understood why he wanted the time apart. He needed to learn what it meant to be Galra. That wasn't something Shiro could help him to do. Shiro was, however, happy to help him in any way he could, so he didn't hesitate to arrange a private meeting in one of the castle's many designated meeting rooms. 

Keith was wearing his usual Blade of Marmora garb, but oddly, he was carrying a small, wrapped bundle. 

Keith thrust the bundle into Shiro's arms almost immediately, as if eager to be rid of it. "Here." 

"What—?" Shiro was surprised when the object shifted as it settled into his grasp. He pulled back the covering gingerly with his fingers. "A baby?"

"A Galra," Keith clarified, but Shiro could see the grayish skin, the head armored with scales, and the red eyes with their yellow sclerae, as the infant blinked at him.

This was not what he'd expected, but he adjusted his grasp to hold the child more securely. "Why do you have a baby Galra?"

"We came across a secret installation. We infiltrated, but there was no one there, except— This." Keith waved his hand at the infant as it turned its head and nipped at Shiro's forearm.

"So you took it."

"I couldn't leave a baby in a lab."

Keith could be soft-hearted, especially when it came to children, but Shiro didn't allow himself to smile at this remark. "You want us to look after it? It's not safe for children here. We're at war."

Keith was already shaking his head. "There's more. Regris was able to extract some data. We couldn't get the full picture, but this—baby, it's important to the someone in the Empire. I don't know why, but it can't be for anything good."

Shiro couldn't deny that a secret Galra base with a lone child inside was concerning. Said child was currently grabbing at Shiro's hand, so Shiro obligingly offered it up. The Galra immediately wrapped its hands around Shiro's pointer finger. It had a strong grip. Shiro couldn't keep himself from smiling at this. "I'll see what we can do."

Shiro recruited Coran to run basic medical tests on the child. Coran was delighted and took to the task with relish, bouncing the baby in his arms. "It's been too long since I held such an adorable little mite! Aren't you the cutest little Galra? Yes, you are." Shiro wasn't sure about the bouncing initially, but as the child started to laugh and make pleased noises, he felt confident about leaving it with Coran.

When Shiro next saw Coran, some hours later, the royal advisor was far more subdued, his mustache drooping. He was holding the baby, but there was no more bouncing to be seen. 

"Is something wrong, Coran?"

"No—maybe—I wouldn't say it's wrong, exactly." Coran regarded the baby in his arms. "I tested whether his genes had been altered by comparing his genetic code to that of other Galra in our data banks."

That struck Shiro as a perfectly reasonable test, but it must not have had the desired result. "And?" he prompted.

"There was a match."

"What do you mean, a match?"

"I mean, this tiny tyke's genes perfectly match someone in our database."

"So he's—"

"A clone." Coran glanced down at the baby as if concerned it might understand and take offense. "A very cute clone!"

"A clone of who?" Shiro was afraid he knew what Coran was about to say.

"Emperor Zarkon."

The baby wriggled in Coran's grasp. Shiro stared. Zarkon. This child looked nothing like the dictator he remembered, even if he was the same type of Galra. He was lively and cheerful and small and in no way terrifying. "That's right," Coran said. "Do you remember me, Zarkon? You always used to call me Advisor, even though Alfor kept telling you my name. Ah—I suppose you won't know that. You don't have your memories, do you?"

"Memories—" Coran's words reminded Shiro of the hologram of King Alfor that had contained his history and personality. "Could they have made a clone of Zarkon so they can implant his memories?"

"Oh! But that would be terrible. A clone is genetically identical to the original, but he's a person in his own right! That's why Alfor made a hologram instead of a clone of himself."

"But the Galra Empire wouldn't follow a hologram, would they?"

"No—no, I'm sure they wouldn't." Coran raised the baby and gazed into his eyes. "Don't worry, little Zarkon. We won't let those mean Galra do anything to hurt you!"

The baby blinked and looked concerned.

"No, we won't," Shiro agreed. "Do we really need to call him Zarkon?"

"But he is Zarkon."

"You said he was his own person."

"He is! He's his own Zarkon, but—" Coran broke off. "Issues of clone identity are tricky. That's why we had strict rules against cloning Alteans."

"No one who had a sense of ethics would do something like this." Shiro had an idea of who was ultimately responsible. He pictured yellow eyes glowing in deep shadows. The Witch. She had experimented on her own emperor. Shiro was rescued from the vision by the force of Coran's gaze. "What is it, Coran?"

"Can we keep him?"

"Can we—" That was the issue. What were they going to do with the baby? They couldn't return him to the Empire. They could leave him on a friendly planet, but what planet was safe enough? Someone would come looking for him, and if it was the Witch—she had a good chance of finding him. The safest place for him was here, where he could be defended by Voltron. "Yes. We're keeping him." 

He had made a unilateral decision, but Shiro couldn't avoid discussing it with the others. They needed to know what they were dealing with. It was time for a team meeting. They all assembled, Keith included. Following Shiro's explanation, Hunk immediately asked to hold the baby and began talking to him in a cute voice about his shiny scales. So—that was one convert.

Lance, standing next to Hunk with his arms folded, glared at the scaled infant. "Are we sure having Zarkon—even if it's extra small Zarkon—on board is a good idea? What if this is some kind of trap?"

"For once, I agree with Lance," said Allura. 

"Hey—" Lance protested.

Allura continued, "We can't accept him unquestioningly. Even if he is—" She leaned in toward the baby. "Very, very small. I didn't think he'd ever been so small."

Pidge looked between Hunk and Allura, her lips narrowing. "We should run some more tests, but if he is just a clone of Zarkon, without any implants or apparent genetic alteration, then there's no inherent danger."

Shiro turned to Keith, who had remained silent. The others slowly followed his gaze. Once Keith realized everyone was watching him, he tensed, shoulders stiffening. "He's a kid, and he's on his own. We can't leave him."

"We can't consider him 'just a kid'," said Allura. "Obviously, we don't want to leave him on his own or see him come to any harm, but—"

An alarm sounded, and they all jumped. "The proximity alert!" Coran and Shiro were already on their feet and moving. The rest of the team wasn't long in following their example, as they raced to the nearby control room.

"What kind of ship is that?" asked Lance, as the screens displayed the image of a long, lean cruiser. Unlike the Galra warships they were familiar with, it was a sickly gray in color, lined with rows of pale yellow lights.

"I'm not sure," said Coran, "but they're hailing us. Should I put them on?" he asked, glancing at Shiro and Allura.

"Put them on," said Shiro. Allura nodded.

A masked figure appeared on screen, its body draped in voluminous robes. A druid? It didn't take Shiro long to guess what it was after, and his suspicions were confirmed when the druid spoke. "You have taken something of ours. You will return it."

Hunk, still holding the baby, turned away protectively. As a team, they hadn't agreed on what to do with the clone, but there was no question of them giving a child to a druid. Allura said coldly, "We have nothing that belongs to you, and we will give you nothing."

"This is your first and only warning," said the druid, in a strange, distorted voice. As they spoke, a bolt of dark energy shot from their ship, striking the Castle of Lions. The Castle shook, and lights flashed. Shiro was about to order the paladins to their lions, but the druid vessel disappeared as suddenly as it had arrived. In another few moments, the Castle seemed to have recovered, but the full power of the druid ship hadn't been revealed.

"You're right, Shiro," said Allura, softly. She must have progressed through the same thought process that Shiro had earlier. "We can't let them have him. We're the only ones who can keep him safe."

"Then it's decided." Shiro placed his hands on his hips. They'd been spared outright battle with the druids, but the druids wouldn't be letting the matter rest. This had confirmed his suspicion that Haggar herself was involved.

"Are we really doing this?" Lance asked. "We're raising baby Zarkon?"

"I guess we are," said Shiro. He hadn't thought of it in those terms, but Lance was right. That was what they had decided to do. He turned to Zarkon, who was now making soft, unintelligible speechlike noises at Hunk.

"That's right, Baby Zarkon," said Hunk. "You're the best little Galra there is." He glanced up. "Oh, wait. Sorry, Keith."

"Sorry for what?" asked Keith, who hadn't been paying attention to Hunk.

"Well, I'm not changing his diapers," said Lance.

Shiro sighed. "Lance, please. I'll take on the responsibility of being his primary caregiver." He was the leader, and this had initially been his decision. "When I'm unable to look after him due to other responsibilities, I'll delegate to someone else."

"Wait, does that make you Zarkon's dad?" Lance asked.

"Zarkon's—no, Lance, I am not Zarkon's dad."

"Okay, okay, it's just that you're kind of like his dad now."

Shiro decided to let that matter drop. There were too many other things to worry about, such as the logistics of how they were going to care for a baby on what was effectively an active warship. Fortunately, the practical details worked themselves out with much greater ease than he'd anticipated. Coran, Hunk, and Lance were very experienced with childcare, and Lance didn't take long to warm up to their newest tiny team member. 

Shiro was initially unsure about the wisdom of calling the baby Zarkon, but everyone else took to it immediately, so he grew accustomed to it as well. He soon found Zarkon wearing a new sweater, which may have been knitted by either Hunk or Lance, or both of them. Zarkon quickly acquired a variety of new toys. Some of them were advanced, like the green cat that meowed loudly when squeezed. It scared Zarkon, so Shiro set it aside until he was older. Hunk baked teething biscuits which Zarkon chomped on with great relish. The baby mysteriously obtained a new blanket, delicately patterned in blue and gold. Shiro guessed it was Altean, made many thousands of years ago. 

One day, when Shiro checked on the baby in his room, he found Keith was already there. He was standing over Zarkon's bed. Zarkon had Keith's blade in his hands and was staring at the weapon with great interest.

"I'm not sure if it's such a good idea to give the baby a knife," said Shiro.

Keith gave a guilty start as he turned to Shiro, a flush starting over his face. "I know, but he really wanted to see it. He was crying. I was just letting him hold it." After a moment, he added, "I used to play with knives." He paused again, before amending, "I wasn't supposed to."

"I'm sure you did," said Shiro, but he reached down to take the knife from the baby. Zarkon fussed and held fast to the hilt, but with careful patience, Shiro was able to extract the blade and return it to Keith. "How about we have someone make him a toy that looks like a knife?"

Keith slipped his knife into its sheath with a small smile. "Yeah. That would be all right."

So Zarkon gained another toy. Weeks passed before anyone realized what was most unusual about the baby—more unusual than the fact that he was a clone of Zarkon. Hunk was holding the baby during one of their team meetings, which was his new habit, and he kept adjusting and readjusting his grip. "Do Galra usually grow so fast?" he finally blurted.

"Hm?" Coran raised his eyebrows. "No, Galra mature much more slowly than even Alteans."

"Then why is he so much bigger? He's getting heavy."

"You're right, he is larger, isn't he?" Coran rose to take the baby from Coran. "I should have noticed sooner. Let me run a few more tests." 

Coran returned shortly with his results and a frown. "I'm afraid it's true. Zarkon's growing much faster than a young Galra should. His growth has been accelerated. Although—not as much as it could have been. Whoever did this must have realized that making a clone mature too quickly is bad for their long-term health."

"Then how long do you think it will take until he's fully mature?" asked Shiro.

"It's hard to say, at this point in his development. But maybe a deca-phoeb or two?"

"They grow up so fast," said Hunk sadly.

Shiro, like Coran, felt he should have realized what was happening sooner. What else did they not know about the child? There could be other things that mere genetic testing hadn't revealed. He had no way of knowing everything the Witch was capable of. What if Zarkon already had his memories and they were waiting for his body to mature before they surfaced? Did this new knowledge mean they should change their strategy for dealing with him?

Shiro took the baby in his arms, guilty and uncertain. He still felt hatred for the Zarkon who had caused so much harm to so many people. It was partly due to Shiro's own actions that the original Zarkon had been lost and this new Zarkon had been created. He was Zarkon. Due to the nature of his identity and the reason he had been created, the Galra Emperor was part of him, but Shiro hoped he might have a chance to be different, too. Zarkon gazed up at him and smiled, letting out one of his wordless small noises. It reminded Shiro of baby crocodiles he'd heard in nature documentaries.

"What should we do?" he asked his team.

"He's our baby," said Lance. "We can't give up on him because he's extra mature. He takes after me, that's all."

"I'm sure that's it, Lance." Shiro smiled back at Zarkon. It was hard not to. "What do you think, little guy?"

Zarkon made another noise. This one sounded less like a crocodile's cry and more like a word. "Da-a," said Zarkon.

"Did he really just—" Eyes wide, Lance leaned over the baby, shortly followed by the rest of the team.

"Da-ad," said Zarkon.

"It's official," said Pidge. "I blame Lance."

It probably was Lance's fault, but Shiro was unable to suppress the warm feeling that rose within him, in spite of the complete strangeness of this situation. He had always wanted to have children. Lately, he had doubted whether that would come to pass. He'd once thought that he and Adam would eventually adopt, but that had been a long time ago. In another world. "That answers my question," said Shiro. "We're in this for the long haul."


	3. Zarkon Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zarkon has had a relatively normal childhood, or so he thinks, because he doesn't have much experience with childhoods other than his own. That doesn't stop him from feeling frustrated by the fact that he can't leave the Castle. If only Dad would see things his way!

Zarkon sat up in bed, eyes snapping open. He was breathing hard, but he didn't know why. Glancing around his room, he noticed nothing out of place. His old toys sat in their usual order on the shelf across from the foot of his bed. The door was closed, and the lights were down. He must have been dreaming, but his dream felt like it had happened a long, long time ago. He tried to recapture it, but only managed to salvage images of a red sky and a woman's face. He had never seen a sky like that, and he didn't recognize the woman. She must have been Altean. The markings on her face reminded him of Allura and Coran.

It was a dream, so he shouldn't worry about it. No one should be afraid of dreams, because they weren't real. Zarkon lay down, pulling his bedspread up over his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and stubbornly willed himself back to sleep. He made a heroic effort, keeping still and silent as the doboshes stretched out, but sleep remained elusive. Finally, he lost patience and kicked his covers aide. He hopped out of bed and went to the door, which slid open for him.

The lights in the hallway were dim, and Zarkon neither heard nor saw anyone. Everyone was probably asleep, like he was supposed to be. He hurried down the corridor quietly. When he reached the door that was his destination, he paused and glanced both ways down the hall. He felt a pang of guilt, because he should probably go back to his room and not bother anyone, but he pushed past his reluctance and opened the door. Once it slid open wide enough for him to enter, he slipped through. "Dad? Are you awake?"

There was initially silence from the bed in the center of the room, but as Zarkon approached, the sleeping form beneath the covers stirred and asked, "Zarkon?"

"It's me."

Shiro sat up in bed, pushing his hair back out of his face. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know. I couldn't sleep."

"Did you have another bad dream?"

"Maybe. I can't remember." He remembered less of the dream than he had moments earlier. It had had something to do with the color red. He liked red.

"Do you want to sleep here?"

Zarkon wanted to, but at the same time, he worried that he was too old to do things like sleep with Dad because he was scared. "Is it all right?"

"It's fine. I don't mind." Shiro's smile was tired, but warm.

Zarkon perched himself on the edge of Shiro's bed. "I'll sit here for a little while."

"Whatever you think would help."

Zarkon let out a long breath. He did feel better when he was with Dad. If he stayed longer, he'd probably feel calm enough to go back to his own bed.

"If something's bothering you and you'd like to talk about it, you can," said Shiro.

"I did want to ask you something."

"Whatever you want to ask. Go ahead." Shiro reached out to brush the fingertips of his non-metal hand across the scales atop Zarkon's head.

"Can I go on the mission with you tomorrow?" Zarkon blurted his question without stopping to plan out the best way to phrase it, like he usually did. "Please? I'll stay in the Black Lion and I won't bother you at all, I promise."

"Zarkon—we've talked about this. It's too dangerous for you."

"It's not fair. I never get to do anything, and I have to stay on the ship all the time."

Shiro paused and let out a sigh. "I know it's frustrating for you, but it's not safe. Not yet. Can you please be a little more patient? I promise, we'll find a way to work this out."

Zarkon knew his father well enough to know that, as nicely as the answer had been phrased, it was final. "I understand. I'll go back to bed now."

"You really can stay, Zarkon. And we can talk about this more tomorrow."

"I don't want to bother you, Father."

"You're not—" Shiro started to say, but Zarkon, impatient, was already on his way back to his room. Once he arrived, he was much too restless to sleep. Instead of getting back into bed, he got dressed. Abandoning his sleep clothes, he pulled on his tunic and pants, then buckled his belt around his waist. He armed himself with the knife that Uncle Keith had given him. When he was finished, he headed back out into the hall and walked down it resolutely. He could do things like the adults and be responsible! He would prove it. He'd patrol the Castle and keep everyone safe.

With such an important self-assigned task, Zarkon already felt better. The Castle appeared to be operating normally. He was doing a good job, but in the lonely silence, he was uneasy. He could barely remember his dream, but the bad feeling that had come with it lingered. Zarkon decided to go visit the lions first and make sure they were okay. They were important, and the Empire was always trying to steal them. He'd start with the Black Lion.

He was halfway to his destination when he saw a flicker in the corridor ahead of him and stopped short. What was that? It couldn't be a person— He gave a start as a robed and masked figure appeared before him. It reached out to him and whispered, "Zarkon..."

Zarkon took another step back as a shudder ran through him. Had an enemy gotten on board? He had to defend the Castle! He drew his knife. 

"There's no need for that. I don't wish to harm you," said the robed stranger. "I'll take you home."

"I am home," said Zarkon. The figure, for all that it had said it didn't want to hurt him, lunged for him. Zarkon had trained for battle with Uncle Keith and the other Blades of Marmora, but now that he was suddenly in the midst of real combat, it was surprisingly—easy and familiar, as if he had fought enemies many times before. He dodged the stranger and struck out with his knife, making contact. The stranger winced and pulled back, their arm injured.

"Not yet, then—" it hissed, and disappeared.

"Dad, Dad!" Zarkon raced down the hall toward Shiro's room. 

Shiro must have heard him, because he was already out in the hall by the time Zarkon arrived. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"There was somebody here, and they tried to take me away."

"What?" Shiro frowned. The others were already emerging from their rooms, blinking and confused. "Coran," said Shiro, using his command voice now, "Check the Castle systems and see if there's been a breach." He put an arm around Zarkon's shoulder. "Zarkon, stay with me. Tell me exactly what happened." 

Zarkon was only too glad to stay by Shiro's side now. He was still with Shiro when Coran gave his report. "As Zarkon said, we were boarded. It looks like when the druid ship attacked us last year, they were able to infect us with a virus which left a backdoor in the security systems. I've closed it. That won't be happening again."

This was the first Zarkon had heard about a druid ship, and he didn't like the sound of it. He took Shiro's hand. Shiro looked down and smiled at him. "You look tired. Are you ready for bed now?"

Zarkon nodded slowly. He did feel very sleepy.

"All right let's go. I promise you, you're safe now."

Somehow, Zarkon couldn't quite remember how, he ended up falling asleep in the hallway. When he opened his eyes again, he was in Shiro's arms, and Shiro was putting him down on his bed. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

Zarkon nodded again. "Dad, can I ask another question?"

"You know you can always ask me another question."

"Is there something—wrong with me?" The question almost caught in Zarkon's throat. It was one he had formulated in his mind before, but he had never gone so far as to speak it out loud.

Shiro's expression was soft, but he was frowning. "Wrong? No, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you."

"But I'm different than everybody else."

"Even if that's true, there's nothing inherently wrong with being different, is there?"

"Maybe not."

"There isn't. I've been in situations where I felt different. I haven't always fit in, and sometimes I've felt alone because of that."

"Even you?"

"Yes, even me. Zarkon—I know it's hard for you to stay in the castle, but you have to trust me. You trust me, don't you?"

"Yes, Dad. Of course I do!"

"Good. No matter what happens, I care about you very much. Can you remember that?"

"That person in the mask—they're not coming back, are they?"

"I'm going to do whatever I can do make sure they don't."

That wasn't the same as saying they would never come back, but it was reassuring. Shiro was a great fighter, and he was strong and smart.

"You'll remember, won't you, how I feel about you?" Shiro asked.

Zarkon took Shiro's hand again—he always took the one that was real flesh and blood—and gave it a squeeze. "Of course! I don't forget things."

"Right. You have a great memory. Look, I know you've been feeling cooped up, so I'll take you on a ride in the Black Lion soon."

"I can really go?"

"Not on the mission this time, but we'll have our own adventure. How would you like that?"

Zarkon nodded, excited by the mere prospect of being able to fly in the Black Lion like Shiro. "Thanks, Dad," he said. His eyelids were heavy again, and they started to drift closed. "I love you," he said, and in another moment he was dreaming again, envisioning the Black Lion shooting like a comet across a starry sky.


End file.
